The Cornish WW2 Midwife Wedding at the Primrose Cottage Bookshop, and other books your mum is reading this summer

LOOKING for a holiday read that actively lowers your intelligence? Take inspiration from the shite your retired mother claims to enjoy: 

The Cornish WW2 Midwife Wedding at the Primrose Cottage Bookshop

‘It’s 1941 and Grace Wood-Morris is a talented midwife delivering adorable babies and keeping spirits up through the turmoil of the Blitz. Nothing can distract her from her forceps – until she finds herself falling for a certain handsome Newquay bookshop owner, who always has a cup of tea and a Jane Austen on hand.’

My Forbidden Mob Boss Love

‘Lucy Parry is the sheltered daughter of a Mafia boss, who falls for the tattooed enforcer son of his greatest rival. But while in a secret relationship with him, she sleeps with his brother. Their clandestine encounter sees her catch the eye of a brutal but sensitive Yakuza enforcer. Does she dare follow her heart?’

Murder With Mayo in the Garden Centre Café

‘In this cosy crime caper, grouchy pensioner Margaret Gerving teams up with the spotty teen behind the exotic fish counter to solve the violent bludgeoning death of a wealthy garden gnome magnate. The debut novel by one of the Chasers off The Chase.

The Farmer’s Plough Girl

‘Rural Ireland, 1890. Red-haired beauty Mary Fisher dreams of a life far from her spiteful stepmother and six vile stepsisters. But when she falls pregnant out of wedlock, she discovers her life has only extremely Catholic cruelties to offer, including but not limited to whip-wielding nuns making her pull a plough with her teeth.’

Second Chances at the Swordfish Taverna

‘Recently widowed Donna Sheridan goes to Greece to scatter her husband’s ashes and to gaze pensively at various sunsets. She has given up on love when she accidentally flashes a boob at sexy bar owner Yiannis, who, in broken, sexy English, teaches her how to love and laugh again.’

Full Moon Reaming, book three of the I Banged A Werewolf saga

‘When Emma met Clark, he didn’t tell her why he disappeared every full moon and explained the feathers littering his apartment as a ‘burst pillow’. But now she knows he’s a werewolf – and fighting an ancient war against vampires, fairies, gnomes, mummies and zombies. So why is she so attracted to the new pixie in her life?’

The Dead Don’t Leave Answerphone Messages

‘Ex-copper Carolyn Ryan thinks her dark past hunting Manchester-based serial killers is behind her. But when she picks up the phone and hears the voice of her long-dead commanding officer on the end of the line, she knows she must once again face the terror she thought she had banished in that rain-slick alley in Crumpsall.’

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In just two years, Keir Starmer has destroyed Britain

By Julian Cook on the behalf of the British people, for the Daily Telegraph

REMEMBER June 2024? When Britain was a paradise? When taxes were low, public services thriving, the armed forces roaring with power?

Back then, there was no deficit. Britain wasn’t in a penny of debt. NHS waiting lists were so low patients were getting hip replacements they neither needed nor requested. The ratio of police to public was roughly three to one, the same as teachers to pupils.

Our prisons were so empty their inmates’ chief problem was loneliness and the boats had been stopped, apart from fishermen bringing home record post-Brexit catches.

Then what happened? A catastrophic administrative error by the electorate ended in an accidental Labour landslide. And Starmergeddon.

Since 2024? Immigrants. Riots. Problems with Thames Water. A cost-of-living crisis such as the world has never seen. Jeremy Clarkson battling cancer.

A country hopelessly, desperately in hock to foreign powers. Prisons overflowing. Policemen as rarely seen as the Scottish capercaillie. School forced to close their doors, leaving children on the streets for the next six weeks.

Seven in ten farmers committing suicide. The NHS constructing nine-mile long corridors simply to treat patients in. Net Zero causing unprecedented heatwaves. The chance to join a exciting and popular war in Iran inexplicably missed.

Make no mistake, this is all Starmer’s doing. As he steps down, his legacy of hating landlords, business, pubs and Brexit is secure. He leaves behind him a country broken.

Forget Burnham. There is only one escape. At the next general election, which is surely soon in the name of common decency, we must all vote Conservative. Or Reform. Or Restore. Or any combination of the three. Whoever’s furthest right.